


I Care About You

by windyjeans



Category: Harvest Moon: Friends of Mineral Town
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 21:03:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5641915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windyjeans/pseuds/windyjeans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick has always been a bit of a worrier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Care About You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MOcarina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MOcarina/gifts).



> WOW I WROTE A HARVEST MOON FANFIC
> 
> I literally just got into this fandom like a month ago and my roommate and I have fallen in love with Rick omfg
> 
> So I wrote this fanfic as her birthday/Christmas present, and I wanted to share it with all of you! Enjoy!

Looking back on his life, Rick had to admit that he was a worrier.  He couldn’t help it though; being surrounded by people that he cared about made him almost constantly think about what they were doing and what could happen to them based on the things that they did.  It certainly wasn’t something that he _obsessed_ over, but it was something that was always pecking at the back of his mind, like an impatient chicken waiting for its food.  When he was a child, he would worry about his mother all hours of the day and whether or not she’d get better before his father came home (back when he actually believed that his father _was_ coming home).  The same kind of worry came about as he got older and that cocky wannabe pirate started coming to Mineral Town in the summers and Popuri began hanging around him so often.  Rick could say that he was being too harsh on his sister about that whole affair, but he _knew_ that that asshole would be a bad influence if she spent too much time around him – which was precisely why he worried so much.

But lately, Rick’s worries were not completely focused on just his mother and sister like they had been in the past.  Now he was concerned about his wife, Claire, too.

It wasn’t a question of infidelity – he trusted her completely in that regard – but rather a concern of how much she was working on her ( _their_ ) farm.  In the beginning of their marriage, the work load was easily split; Rick would continue working at the Poultry Farm to help his mother, while she would work on her farm as always.  She’d been doing so by herself for a while at that point so it wasn’t completely unfair for her to do all of the farm work.  Besides, she _insisted_ that he help his mother and he’d been happy to oblige.

But then they’d found out that Claire was pregnant.

The problem wasn’t that he was unhappy – Goddess no, he could hardly wait to see and hold his child for the first time – but Claire continuing to do her farm work at the same intensity that she always had despite carrying a child was the main issue he had.  She would tell him time and time again that she was fine, she wasn’t tired, _go help your mother, Rick,_ but he still wasn’t convinced.  Maybe if could show her that it would be best for her to relax, especially as it got later and later in her pregnancy, rather than believing that she needed to do all of the work by herself.  Maybe he could find some way to persuade her to let him help her around the farm, something he’d wanted to talk about for quite some time but was unsure when to bring it up. Or maybe he was just being the overprotective worrywart that Popuri always claimed he was…

The sharp sound of the tea kettle jolted him from his thoughts and he jumped nearly a mile from his place at the stove.  Rick removed the kettle from the burner before putting the tea bags in.  He grunted in frustration as the steam fogged up his glasses, which he removed to wipe on his shirt.  His mother had told him to return home early that day, seeing as it was Sunday and raining anyway.  _“Go spend some time with Claire, sweetheart,”_ she’d said to him, handing him a plate of cookies to take back. 

He hadn’t seen Claire working when he’d walked onto the property, so he figured that she was in one of the animal barns.  He thought that the fact that he was home so early with warm cup of tea for her would be a nice surprise.  Rick replaced his glasses onto his nose and glanced out the window to see if could catch a glimpse of his wife, but no such luck.  He frowned, imagining her working on her crops while it poured outside.  He was not fond of weather that wasn’t sunny, and he couldn’t understand why Claire liked it so much when it rained, even to the point of doing her chores outside without so much as a complaint.  ‘ _What if she got sick?’_ He wondered, checking on the kettle and absently munching on one of his mother’s cookies.  _‘I don’t think I could handle that.  I’d feel so bad that I hadn’t done more.’_

Rick swallowed the cookie thickly and slumped over the counter.  He had to be overthinking things.  This was _Claire_ after all, the farmer girl who wasn’t afraid of anything, a woman who was tough as nails but also simultaneously the one of sweetest women he’d ever met.  Even after the fact that they’d been married for about a year, Rick still felt a tiny blush spread across his cheeks when he thought about her and allowed himself a big (and what was surely dopey) grin.  He really did love his wife, more than he’d loved anything in his entire life.  She supported him when he was sad and calmed him down when he was angry and – Rick felt the warmth on his cheeks grow – she made him so happy, just by being with him.  That was why he couldn’t help but be concerned for her.  He knew that Claire was more resilient than he often gave her credit for, but there was always that question of “what if?” ringing in his ears.           

Just then, the front door clicked open and Rick turned just in time to hear a “C’mon, Clover, get inside before you get too muddy,” come from outside the door.  It was Claire’s voice, slightly out of breath but still as lilting and warm as Rick was used to hearing.  A small red-brown dog scuffled into the house and promptly shook out the rainwater from its fur before noticing Rick in the kitchen.  The overexcited mutt made a beeline for the bespectacled man and woofed excitedly, pawing at Rick’s brown pants.  While Rick wasn’t overly fond of having a dog (seeing as wild dogs had eaten some of their chickens when he was a child and it had scared the Hell out of him), Clover was a sweet little thing that he knew Claire had trained to stay away from the chicken coop.  He was aware that was for his sake and the thought made a warm feeling spread throughout his body as he reached down to give the dog a small pat on the head.  He was getting used to having a dog.  It was just going to take some time.

“Clover? What do you see, girl?” Footsteps rang through the house as the hooded woman walked inside.  “What were you barking a- Rick!” she exclaimed, finally seeing him.  Her face was bright with happiness and surprise as she waddled over to him and gave him a big hug, laughing as her dog tried to join the embrace for herself.  Rick didn’t even mind that his shirt was wet from Claire’s raincoat.  He just wrapped his arms tightly around her, or at least as best as he could do so with her stomach between them.  Claire pulled away with the biggest smile on her face.  “What are you doing home so early?” she asked, kicking off her boots and pulling off her coat.  The smile wavered a bit. “Is something wrong with your mother? Or the shop?”

Rick helped her with the coat, hanging it by the door to dry.  He explained why his mother didn’t need him today and watched as relief flooded Claire’s features.  He really was lucky to have someone in his life that not only cared about him, but also his family (and, he supposed, she considered them _her_ family as well).  Claire glanced over at the counter and spotted the cookies.  “Did you make these?”

Rick shook his head.  “Mom told me to bring them over,” he answered, smirking as she grabbed one, two, three cookies from the plate.  “Hungry?” he teased, walking back over to the kitchen. 

Claire’s blue eyes were suddenly on him, annoyed at the teasing but there was a sheepishness somewhere there from being caught taking so many cookies.  “For your information, _chicken boy_ ,” she started, smirking at Rick’s pout after he heard the old name people used to make fun of him with, “I haven’t eaten since breakfast.  And besides,” Claire took a bite, “Your mother’s cookies are the best.  I can’t eat just one.”

The young man paused when Claire mentioned that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.  He knew for a fact that Claire ate around 6 am every morning and by a quick glance at the grandfather clock he saw that it was pushing 2 pm.  After doing so much farm work and the fact that she was carrying a _baby_ inside of her were both valid reasons for her to be so hungry – though, he had to wonder, did she normally wait this long to have lunch? He wasn’t home until the evening on most days.  He sincerely hoped that this wasn’t a normal thing.

“I can make you something, if you’d like,” he offered, looking in the fridge to see what kinds of food they had.  He looked back to see her finish her third cookie with a beaming smile before nodding and walking over to the table.  She plopped down at her normal chair and coaxed Clover to sit with her so she could brush her fur while she waited. 

Rick quickly prepared a warm stew in the kitchen and poured a cup of tea for his wife, knowing how cold she probably was from the autumn rain, even if she hadn’t said anything.  When he looked back at the table, however, he saw that Claire had fallen asleep, her blonde hair spilling over her arms and onto the table.  Rick smiled fondly but felt a small, involuntary pang of concern over her.  She must have been exhausted if she fell asleep at the table, something she’d never done before when he was home.  He gently shook her shoulder and she woke with a start, her head raising from the table quickly.  She looked over at him and blinked sleepily.  “Hi.  Is that for me?” she said, eyeing the stew in his hands.

“Yep,” he nodded, setting the bowl and the tea in front of her.  The young man sat next to his wife and watched as she made short work of the stew right before him.  She was hungry; probably hungrier than she said she was.  He watched her eat and must have had a sad look on his face because when Claire looked at him again, her eyebrows arched upwards in concern.

“Rick? What’s wrong?” she asked, putting a warm hand over his own.  He brought his other hand to cover hers and looked right at her, feeling his mouth go dry under her stare.  “You can tell me anything, you know.”  He figured if there was any time to tell her what he’d been meaning to talk with about for months now, right then would be the best time.  He sighed, steeled his guts, and came out and said it:

“I’m worried about you, Claire.”

She looked at him in shock, the hand covering his tightening ever so slightly.  “Wh-“

“It’s just… you work so hard, and you’re always so tired, and I don’t want you to do so much that you get sick _or worse_.” The words came flooding out and he couldn’t stop them.  “What if you passed out somewhere and I couldn’t find you? I don’t –“ his breath caught, and he had to swallow quickly to recover, glancing down at the table to avoid her gaze for a moment; “I don’t know what I’d do if that happened.  I love you so much, Claire.  I don’t want you – or the baby – to get hurt.”  He looked back up to see that she had started tearing up.  Rick blinked in surprise and brushed one thumb across her cheek.  He hadn’t meant to make her cry! 

Maybe if he brought up the other topic he wanted to talk with her about would stop her tears.  It was worth a shot. “Claire, what if I helped you on the farm? Do some of the work for a while?”

Her eyebrows went so high they disappeared behind her bangs.  “R-really?” she asked, sniffing.  “But what about your mother? The farm?”

Rick smiled gently, migrating the hand that was wiping away her tears into her hair and brushed his fingers through the soft tresses.  “Really,” he confirmed.  “I’ve been teaching Poppy how to take care of the chickens for years now.  Mom’ll be okay at the counter, we haven’t had a lot of business in the last few weeks.  And with winter coming up, things around the farm will be a lot easier.  Besides, if I tell them why I can’t help for a few months I _know_ that they will pretty much _command_ me to help you.  You know how they get.” Claire laughed and nuzzled into his touch.

“Well… if you’re sure, Rick.  I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do.  I – I _could_ use the help,” she admitted, the smallest amount of concern still flickering in her eyes.  Rick noticed this and leaned over, kissing her right on the lips.

“I’m sure,” he mumbled, pressing their foreheads together, blue eyes meeting blue eyes.  “I’ll work on the crops if you’ll feed the animals.”  It wasn’t a hard decision on his part.  He thought about her having to bend over when tending the crops and what kinds of stress that was putting on her back.  Rick knew that animals were much easier to take of.  He could learn how to take care of crops.  It couldn’t be much harder than taking care of the corn that he already knew how to grow at the Poultry Farm.  The young man smiled as he felt his wife nod against him.

Claire pulled away and suddenly put her hand onto her stomach, a wide grin growing across her face.  “The baby seems to agree, too,” she laughed, grabbing one of his hands to feel against the expanse of her stomach.  Rick was amazed to feel a small foot kick against his hand, a child that _he_ helped to create – good Goddess, he was going to be _a father_.  Even after knowing for so long, the idea of having a child of his own still sent sparks down his spine and burst of happiness in his chest.  He was so, _so_ lucky to have Claire here with him to help him start and raise a family that would love and support him for the rest of his life.  He was still in awe sometimes.

The blonde noticed him staring and giggled, kissing his cheek to bring him back to reality.  “What were you thinking about, chickaboo?” His heart skipped at the pet name.

“I was just thinking how lucky I am to have you,” he said, watching as her eyes flashed with affection and she came closer to kiss him again, this time on the lips, finally scooting her chair closer so she could snuggle into his warm embrace.  They stayed like that for a while, sitting in a comfortable silence until he felt her breaths slow; she’d fallen asleep again. 

Feeling much better about the situation than he had just an hour or so before, he picked up his bride into his arms and carried her to their bed, tucking her into the blankets so she could sleep in peace.  Rick noted how peaceful she looked before cleaning up the dishes and grabbing one last cookie and a cup of (now lukewarm) tea to bring with him in the armchair next to the bookshelf.  He chose a book on crops, pouring into pages of information that he would need to know to keep everything on the farm running smoothly.  He glanced over his glasses back over at the bed, a small grin on his lips.  Yes, he could certainly stop worrying about Claire now that he knew that he could be there to help her.  His worries could finally rest.

At least until the baby came.  Then he knew that he would probably start worrying again.

But wasn’t that what fathers were for? 


End file.
